


Human

by kate7h



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Loss, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Major Character Injury, Rage, Set in Vinland, Whump, wound care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate7h/pseuds/kate7h
Summary: It happened in an instant, and Thorfinn was sure his life was over. Years of Hild holding that bow to him and she’d finally pulled the trigger... But he and Hild were both surprised when that bolt didn’t hit its intended target...Thorfinn finds out again what truly makes him angry...
Relationships: Einar & Thorfinn (Vinland Saga), Gudrid/Thorfinn (Vinland Saga), Hild & Thorfinn (Vinland Saga)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 47





	1. Rage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ketita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketita/gifts).



> _If I lose control, I feed the beast within..._  
>  Human ~ Of Monsters and Men
> 
> So this is a result of talking extensively with @Ketita about Hild and her presence around Thorfinn and how damaging it is as it stands. We wondered what it would take for Thorfinn actually speak out against her, and so I jotted this down and, of course, it grew bigger than I’d intended...

It happened in an instant, and Thorfinn was sure his life was over. Years of Hild holding that bow to him and she’d finally pulled the trigger. He wanted to think he was ready… he wanted to think he deserved it beyond a doubt. But in that fateful moment, he didn’t think of his guilt, nor his sins, nor Hild’s justified hatred… 

No, his thoughts turned to his little children, his wife, his brother, his family and friends. The people who relied on him; the people he loved. His thoughts lingered on how much they loved and needed him… and how much it would hurt them to see him die.

_ I don’t deserve to live… but I want to… I want to live with them! _

But he and Hild were both surprised when that bolt didn’t hit its intended target. 

Thorfinn felt his head hit the ground as he was shoved down, and a cry pierced the air moments after the clank of the crossbow. He opened his eyes to see a mess of dark hair, and he realized his wife was crumpled on top of him, gasping in pain. 

“N- no!” He cried, pulling himself up as he knelt over her. The single bolt was embedded deep in the flesh of her shoulder, close to her neck. He watched in horror as the blood spread through the fibers of her clothes. “Gudrid… Gudrid!”

_ This shouldn’t have happened… this shouldn’t have happened! Hild was meant to kill me! Not her! Not her!! _

“G- Gudrid…” Hild muttered and he glanced up at her. Her eyes were wide, gaping at what she’d done. The crossbow dropped from her hands, clattering to the earth. “I-“

Thorfinn trembled, tearing his eyes from her and back to Gudrid. He turned her over, cradling her in his arms. She was gasping, tears tumbling down his cheeks. “Gudrid, why-? Why would you-? How could you?”

She shook her head, biting her lip so hard she was bleeding there too. Or maybe there was blood in her throat… “Hate it… hate this- Hild and you… so much…”

He gaped at her, feeling the heat of the blood on his hands as he held her. Her face was scrunched in pain as she curled into him, crying out, her fist clenched in his tunic. 

Then Hild was there, reaching out to her, and Thorfinn couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He just saw hands that had hurt her, and he hated it.

“Get away!” He shouted, clinging to her tighter, shielding her from the woman. “Don’t touch her!”

Hild didn’t speak, and he’d half expected her to. He expected her to say something like taking someone he loved was fair. He didn’t deserve to feel what he felt. But he did feel it. He felt horror, despair… rage.

Hild didn’t say a word, just stood over them, her face set in a kind of raw terror. But he couldn’t care about her right now. The only thing he could see was Gudrid bleeding out in his arms as he desperately tried to hold the wound closed. 

“E- Einar…” he muttered, his voice swollen as he called for help. “Einar! Einar! Help!”

He looked back down at Gudrid’s face. Her eyes were barely open, as if she were fighting to stay awake— stay alive. He buried his face in Gudrid’s neck, eyes wide as he was unable to comprehend his own thoughts. 

“Stay alive,” he murmured, holding the wound tighter. She gasped, crying out at the pain. “Don’t die. Don’t die for me. I- I can’t-“

Footsteps sounded and he didn’t have to look up to know Einar was beside him. “What happened?”

Thorfinn gritted his teeth, still trying to slow the bleeding. “She’s been shot…“

He looked up, his eyes falling on Hild once more. Einar’s shoulders squared, glowering at the hunter with astonishment and fury. “You shot Gudrid?!”

She said nothing in response. All of her fierceness was gone as Hild scarcely took her eyes off the woman on the ground. 

Einar fumed at her, but turned away. “We are not done! But Gudrid needs help  _ now,  _ so come help, Hild!”

Thorfinn gritted his teeth. He couldn’t think about logic. He couldn’t think about guilt or reason or anything. All he could see was Hild shooting his wife, the bolt piercing her flesh. 

A mountain of a man came to mind, his body filled with a volley of arrows…

_ Rage… rage…  _ It was a familiar feeling, so close to him he was sure it was kin. It was all consuming and he knew it was wrong… but part of him felt like a child again, watching his father get shot… watching his wife get shot… He hadn’t felt so enraged in years and years. 

_ It’s wrong… it’s not who you want to be…  _ but that solemn voice in his head wasn’t enough to calm the fires within him. 

He sat on the ground, holding Gudrid in his arms as he pressed his hand against her, feeling the sticky red saturate his skin, pumping out of her even as he pushed hard to keep it from spilling to the ground— she wasn’t even crying out anymore. Her breaths were short, gasping at the pain with little voice. He stared down at her, feeling that anger grow, like fire lapping at his skin. Gudrid’s eyes were opened, looking up at him with heavy lids, tears falling down her pale cheeks. 

“Tho- Thorfinn…” she gasped, her hands grasped weakly at him. 

His jaw was clenched so tight, he thought his teeth might crack. 

“Keep her away from Gudrid,” he snarled as Einar knelt down. Einar blinked at him, then nodded.

“Alright,” he breathed, surprise in his voice, but he shook it off soon enough. “But we need to turn her over. Let’s remove the bolt and bandage her up… quickly.”

His blood continued to boil, thoughts racing through his mind as fast as lightning. But he still took a breath, steadying his mind to focus, despite his emotions. It was as he’d done when he’d fought before with Askeladd.  _ Calm the rage and use your mind…  _

He turned Gudrid gently, pulling the fabric down at her shoulder to examine the wound. The bolt was deep, embedded in her skin as the blood seeped sluggishly from around it. Once the bolt was removed, she would bleed freely, and the ground below them was already saturated in red. 

“Hild, bandages, needle and thread, and some ointment,” he glared up at her, his voice scathing. “Or would you rather watch her die?”

Hild bit her lip, looking down, then turned and ran, presumably to fetch the things he needed. 

“I’ll get water,” Einar said. “Let’s bring her inside the house and not here in the dirt-“

“No,” Thorfinn felt his voice grow low and cool. “I’ll need the light for the sutures. Bring blankets out here and we’ll lay her down on those.”

“Alright,” Einar said, pressing a hand to his shoulder. He didn’t respond, just continued to hold Gudrid’s neck, slowing the bleeding as much as he could. 

When Einar returned, Thorfinn lifted her into his arms, laying her on her belly atop the thick blanket in the grass. He swept her hair aside, then tore the back of her tunic some to access the wound easier. Hild had returned with the supplies and was now sitting a ways off, watching silently. His skin prickled with anger so deep, but he continued to treat his wife in all the ways he knew how. 

Taking another deep breath, he dug his fingers into the wound, and Gudrid shrieked, crying and trembling at the pain, and he spread his free hand against the skin of her neck, trying to soothe her as he caused more pain. 

“Almost done,” he murmured, stroking her hair with a gentle hand as his other dug into her to firmly grasp the edges of the bolt. “I’m sorry, Gudri.”

Einar was holding her hand, letting her squeeze it until his hand looked as pale as her face. Thorfinn hated to see her in so much pain, to hear her voice crying out in agony, but he couldn’t stop. The longer it took, the less likely she would live. 

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed, then yanked the bolt free from her. Gudrid screamed again, her nails digging into his knee. Immediately, he pressed bandages to the wound with his whole weight as her blood flowed freely. He grit his teeth again. He’d seen plenty of blood before, he’d felt it on his skin, he’d spilt it to the ground. But it felt different… seeing so much blood and knowing it was from his wife— someone he cherished. He hated the sight of it. It churned his stomach in a way such a wound never had before. 

After what felt like an eternity, he eased up his grip against the wound to examine the flow. When it was still bleeding extensively, he leaned into it again and again. It wasn’t until it had slowed exceptionally that he spoke again. 

“Einar, wash the wound area quickly,” he muttered, rinsing his hands in the water. “I’ll do the sutures in a moment.”

Einar nodded, pulling his hand free from Gudrid’s grasp and moved to clean the blood from her back. Thorfinn took up the needle, his hands steady as he pulled the thread through the eye. 

When Einar finished, Thorfinn could see the wound more clearly. It wasn’t very wide, but he knew it was deep, at least as deep as his fingers. The edges were clean, since the bolt that had passed through her had the force of a weapon that would piece the skull of a bear… She was still bleeding...

He set to work, pushing the needle into her skin and pulling the thread through. He wasn’t sure if she was still conscious anymore, but he was sure this was less pain than removing the bolt had been. He pulled another stitch through her, steadily sewing her skin together, thinking back on the times he’d needed to do this to himself… when his own self was the only thing that mattered in the world—  _ stay alive to kill Askeladd. _ He’d used his needle to mend his clothing as winter approached, and he’d used it to sew his skin closed when his wounds were deep. He’d been so alone in the world, surrounded by those warriors.

But he wasn’t alone anymore. He had connections, people who cared about him. Family. Love.  _ Gudrid…  _ Her smile was bright enough to lighten his every day. He truly had grown to love her deeply, feeling for her as he never had another soul. She was strange and kind and energetic and soft, and she loved him so enthusiastically.  _ Don’t leave me…  _ he hated the thought, but he kept pleading those words in his mind. He stuck the needle through her again and again, stitching her shut. 

“That looks like it’ll do the trick,” Einar muttered next to him, wiping the area with water once more, cleaning away the blood that she’d shed as he’d stitched her up. 

Thorfinn nodded, feeling cold down to his bones. He cleaned his hands again, then picked up the salve, spreading it across the bumpy area generously. Then he gently lifted her head, pulling her to lie on her side as he wrapped the bandages around her under her tunic. He looped them over her neck, under her armpit, across her chest, then back to her neck again. He pulled them tight, making sure she wouldn’t bleed anymore. She’d lost so much already. 

When he finished, he laid her down, letting her head rest in his lap. She was breathing easier at least, but she looked pale as death. Her eyes were shut now, fluttering as if she were trying to rouse herself, or she was having a bad dream. 

“Gudrid,” he breathed, stroking her face. “Can you hear me?”

Her response was no more than a weak moan, and he tsked, feeling a snarl on his face. He wrapped his hands under her, lifting her from the ground. She was limp in his arms as he held her against him, and he gritted his teeth. 

“Einar, do you know where Karli is?” He asked, cradling Gudrid to him. He already knew Snorri was still asleep in the house beside them, Gudrid having laid him down to nap just before this. 

“Down by the ships, last I saw,” he said as he stood. “Cordelia was with him.”

Thorfinn nodded. “Will you bring him to the house? He should know his mom’s been hurt.”

“I- I’ll get him,” Hild spoke after all this time being silent. 

He felt that rage prickle through him anew as he turned a fierce glare at her. “Why? So you can hurt my child as well?”

Hild glared back at him, her frame visibly trembling. “I would  _ never _ hurt Karli.”

“As you would  _ never _ hurt Gudrid?” He shot back, his voice scathing and cold. 

She looked down, gritting her teeth as she stared at the ground. “I’ll bring him to you. I won’t harm him.”

Thorfinn tsked at her. “If he is harmed, then you’ll have finally found your weakness in me…” he muttered, turning away. “Huntress.” 

Again, he felt within himself that she should yell at him, that she should be that kind of indignant she tended to be— seeing only a beast in him, only wrongdoing. He wasn't so far gone that he would disagree, but there was something different at this situation— Gudrid's life being put on his line at Hild's hand… His will to maintain that pacifistic ideology was quieter than his wrath at seeing such a thing occur. 

_ It wasn't intended for Gudrid…  _ He knew that. She'd been aiming at his chest… but it was Gudrid who had been shot, and it made him question the whole situation entirely. Hild threatened him frequently with that crossbow. He'd only ever considered it her right, to keep him in place as she saw fit. But now, the dangerous results of such reckless behavior lying limp in his arms… there was no excuse. Every person who'd grown close so close to him; Einar, the crew, Gudrid… even Karli had picked up that tendency of fighting his battles for him… any one of them would willingly (and had willingly) jumped into front of an arrow for him. And Hild was waving that thing around, not considering such collateral damage… and neither had he. 

_ No more… _ he snarled deeper, turning to carry Gudrid to their home.  _ If such actions have these kinds of consequences, then she can find a different way to exact her revenge… I'm done. _

Perhaps the thoughts were selfish in the grand scheme of things, but looking down at Gudrid's pale face, he decided he didn't care for the moment.


	2. Beneath the Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter of this needlessly angsty story... enjoy!
> 
> Also some more kinda bloody art.... https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1280122663558504449

Einar was by his side, walking quietly with him as he tread up the hill. Thorfinn didn't speak, feeling that rage so close to the surface, he was almost afraid to even open his mouth. The last time he'd felt such a thing was meeting Floki that second time, having learned he'd orchestrated Thors' death— that had been nearly twenty years prior and he'd still reacted with such rage. 

_ What would I do if Gudrid should die of this…?  _

Vengeance was so easily justifiable, and he didn't have it in him to think himself out of it. Not right now… not with Gudrid still bleeding in his arms. Perhaps he really would kill Hild… perhaps he'd slaughter her in a rage and add her heavy blood to his soul…

He shuddered, feeling a little colder.

"You're so much angrier than I've seen you before," Einar said quietly. "What're you thinking?"

Thorfinn glanced at him, feeling that shudder continue down his spine. Einar could always read him well, which often took him by surprise— though after so long, he probably shouldn't be.

"I- I might need you to restrain me," Thorfinn began, looking down at Gudrid's pale face, cradling her close. "I don't think I'd regret making a last resort a first… should Gudri not make it…"

Einar's eyes widened, and even just that small reaction was enough to make him feel that shame grow stronger within him. "You'd kill Hild…?"

He bit his lip, leaning his cheek against Gudrid's hair. "I don't know… but it's taking everything in my power to keep this rage inside… I don't know what would've happened had the results been different."

Einar was silent as they arrived at the house, and he pushed the door open quietly. The light must've been too bright as Snorri began to cry. Thorfinn placed Gudrid gently on the bed as Einar lifted the babe into his arms, comforting him until his cries ceased. 

Thorfinn watched for a few moments, taking in how much the little baby resembled his wife; her black hair, her rosy cheeks, her dark eyes, Snorri had it all. His heart shuddered and he sat by the bed, wondering whether the boy would be the only thing she left him, if she died from this.

"I- I think I'd want to kill her, Einar…" Thorfinn muttered after a while. "I'm not even sure if I want you to stop me."

Einar came over, rubbing Snorri's back as he sat on the wood beside him. "Remember what I told you?"

Thorfinn turned tired eyes to him, and Einar frowned seriously. 

"I know who you are," Einar said solemnly. "I know your heart, and I know that after the rage has faded, doing that… killing once again… it might destroy you."

_ He's right… I know he's right… but I wonder if I care right now what the correct thing to do is…  _ He turned, taking Gudrid's hand gently, feeling it hang limp in his grasp. 

"I've clung to my rage before… I've nurtured it within myself for over a decade," Thorfinn said tiredly. "I can cling to such a thing for a very long time."

"Not anymore," Einar sighed. "Not the you of today."

Thorfinn looked at Gudrid, seeing her short breaths and glistening forehead.  _ Already feverish…  _ He grit his teeth, his hand gripping tighter around hers. "I wonder if that's true…"

Einar shifted the baby to one arm, then clasped a hand against Thorfinn's shoulder. He didn't look up, he just continued to feel the boiling in his blood lying just under his skin. 

"Whatever happens, I'll be by your side, brother… as I've always been," Einar spoke softly, but there was a stern edge to his voice as well. "You held me back from revenge when the woman I loved had been killed… I intend to do the same for you, should you lose your love as well."

Thorfinn felt a jolt rung through him at the memory— that moment in the road as they lost Arnheid and cried in the dirt for her. He hadn't realized how little he'd understood Einar's feelings in that moment until now, seeing Gudrid so seriously wounded… 

_ Of course Einar's right… _

He let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Thank you, brother."

It didn't take that long for Hild to return with Karli. The door burst open as Karli ran to Thorfinn. "Mommy! Daddy, what happened to Mommy?!"

Thorfinn felt that rage burn within him once again, seeing Hild as she stood hesitantly in the doorway, and seeing Karli so desperately cling to the edge of the bed, taking in the pale sight of his mother with fear. Thorfinn rubbed the boy's hair, trying to give him a bit of comfort. Karli looked up at him, his big blue eyes brimmed with tears. “Daddy?”

He knelt in front of the boy, placing his hands on his shoulders gently. “Mommy… got hurt today pretty bad. She’s gonna… stay in bed for a while to recover.”

“But how?!” Karli cried, his tears beginning to fall. “How’d she get hurt?”

Thorfinn took a breath, keeping his face free of that bubbling rage as his son looked up at him desperately. “Hild… shot her with her crossbow.”

Karli’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “An accident?! But Hild’s always really careful, Daddy!”

Hild still stood near the door, her face turned away. Thorfinn kept his face passive, turning his eyes back to Karli. “It was an accident that your mom was shot, but she’d aimed to fire her bow at me… Your mom... protected me.”

Karli shook his head, eyes wide. “N- no, you’re wrong…! Hild taught me to never aim at people, ‘cause someone could get hurt! She wouldn’t aim at you, Daddy! It’s dangerous!”

“Karli,” he bit his lip, feeling such a weight upon him. This wasn’t something he’d wanted to tell Karli. It was too heavy a situation, too saturated in his own guilt of what he’d done to Hild. But the boy had grown old enough that it would’ve been hard to hide the nature of Hild’s relationship with him for long. He was such an observant kid, picking up so much more than he would've thought such a young child capable of. Thorfinn though he should explain it entirely so that the child didn’t understand incorrectly. “The only person Hild has ever wanted to hurt with that bow is me.”

Karli gaped at him, then over at Hild. “W- why? You said not to hurt anyone with a bow! It’s for hunting and taking care of people, that’s what you taught me, right?”

Hild didn’t answer, she didn’t even look at the boy. Thorfinn saw her trembling, her hand braced against the door as if she was preparing to flee. Karli continued to demand answers from her, but Thorfinn pulled his shoulders gently, bringing him to face him once more. Karli shook his head, looking up at Thorfinn. “Why?!”

Thorfinn felt that shame mix with his anger, being so much more prominent now, having to face telling his four-year-old child that he’d been a ruthless murderer for half his life. 

“It’s a long story,” Thorfinn said quietly, looking down. “Let’s take care of Mommy, then I’ll tell you everything, my son.”

* * *

He’d been correct in thinking Gudrid had already contracted a fever— she was burning up by the time the sun went down. He was grateful to Einar and the rest for helping keep Karli calm and occupied. 

In the end, that conversation he needed to have with that child was postponed. He couldn't leave Gudrid's side even a little. She was… not in a good place. It was difficult enough for Karli to see that, so Thorfinn decided for now not to add to such stress to the child by burdening him with his father's mistakes, as well as his mother's health. 

He remembered times in his youth when his own mother had been ill, suffering in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend. Gudrid suffering like this… it was something he didn’t wish Karli to see too much of at his age— especially with him knowing it wasn’t some illness that had struck her but a person he’d trusted… It was a rough situation either way, but it was exceedingly hard considering it through the eyes of a child. 

Snorri was difficult in a different way. He was only a couple months old, not eating solid foods yet. Without Gudrid to feed him, he was having a hard time. Usually she would’ve fed him after his nap and before he went down for the night, but neither had been an option. He’d tried to feed the boy the goat’s milk pudding, which had kept Karli alive until he could eat more when he was an infant… but Snorri was much younger than Karli had been back then. He wailed, coughing out the food as Thorfinn tried to calm him while still watching over Gudrid. He patted the baby’s back as he tried to get the babe to sleep, his teeth grinding together. 

_ Dammit…  _

Her fever was highest in the night, and he spent the hours trying to cool her down. She was in and out of consciousness for most of the time, delirious as she muttered to herself, reaching for something he couldn’t see. Most of the time he couldn’t make out any legible words at all, but at times he heard their children’s names, sometimes it was his own. Sometimes it was "mom" or "dad," or her own siblings' names; family she'd left behind in Greenland… He sat beside her, sometimes holding Snorri, sometimes not when he was lucky and got him to sleep for a couple hours before he woke again. 

“Hang on, Gudri,” he murmured as he sat beside the bed, pressing a damp cloth to her forehead. “Just hang on.”

Her hair was splayed out around her head like a halo, clean now after he’d taken the time and his anxious energy to clean the blood from her long locks. Lying with her clean hair and clean, white nightshirt, she almost looked like she was just sleeping. There was nothing wrong with her at all, she was just fine. He would turn in in a little while and sleep beside her as he’d done most every night for nearly four years. Then she’d smile and press her face into his shoulder and say he smelled nice… that just being with him helped her sleep. 

The room was quiet as he pondered it; their usual nightly routine. The anger gripped him once again as he watched her face, pale and shining with sweat, he could see her rough breaths, and the furrowing of her brow at the pain within her. He clenched his fists, feeling it all burn within him. 

He still climbed into the bed, lying beside her. Gingerly, he touched her cheek, hearing the blood rush in his ears. 

_ Please be alright… please make it through this night…  _

He knew this was his fault. His and Hild’s fault. He willingly took a portion of the blame— not all could be pinned on Hild, though that didn't diminish the anger he felt. Gudrid had nothing to do with the past they’d shared. She didn’t deserve such pain. She deserved none of this. Neither did the children. He felt that rage rise up within him, hating and hating with every pulse in his ears…

“T- Thorfinn…? -finn…?” She muttered in her restless sleep, and he felt everything stop within him. Her voice was soft, weak, afraid as she seemingly searched for him. 

Gently, he pressed his forehead to hers, shutting his eyes with a sigh. “I’m here… I’m not going to leave you.”

She continued to mumble as the fever raged through her. Her skin was hot against his, making him sweat just being close to her. He bit his lip, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Be strong, love.”

_ Survive… for both of our sakes... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much! Please leave a comment! How do you think a situation like this would play out?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Please please leave comments, my friends! I gotta know people are reading these...


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